


The Proposal

by RPGgirl514



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Adorable, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, OTP Feels, Post-Movie(s), Wedding Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RPGgirl514/pseuds/RPGgirl514
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna wants to convince Kristoff that she's ready to be engaged. Little does she know Kristoff and Elsa have something up their sleeves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy engagement Kristanna for two friends who got engaged IRL. Dedicated to Mitch & Amanda -- congrats on their engagement!

Elsa was idly reading over a proposal to dissolve the trade embargo between Arendelle and Weselton (the third one the Duke had sent in as many months -- he was nothing if not persistent) when Kai showed Kristoff into the study.  The queen was a vision of refined poise, with one knee crossed demurely over the other, her slender hands encased in white, elbow-length gloves, and her flaxen hair pinned up in an elegant knot at her nape.

"You wanted to see me?" Elsa said, looking up.

"Uh, yes, your Majesty," said Kristoff, attempting an awkward little bow.  "It's about Anna."

Elsa's heart jumped into her throat, and her uppermost leg slid off the other knee and thudded, flat-footed, onto the hardwood floor.  Her fingers splayed across the surface of the table.  She was halfway risen from her chair when she told herself, in no uncertain terms, that she was being ridiculous.   _You just saw Anna, and she's fine,_ the queen thought. _Don't assume the worst._  But Elsa always did when it came to Anna.  Sometimes she thought she always would.  

"Anna?" she asked.  Her distress must have been evident on her face, because Kristoff’s eyes widened and he brought his palms up, shaking his head.

“No!  No, no, no, no, nothing like that!  She’s fine.  Anna’s . . . great.”  He rubbed the back of his neck, stalling for time and looking around the room -- anywhere to avoid meeting Elsa’s eyes.

It seemed they were destined to remain there all day if Elsa didn’t prod him in the right direction.  “Was there . . . something you needed?” she asked slowly.

"Oh! Yes, right, well, it's -- that is, we -- I mean -- there's really no easy way to say this, and I realize I'm not royalty, or nobility, even . . ." He was babbling.

Elsa hid a smile. Kristoff reminded her of Anna with his awkward demeanor sometimes. They were good for each other, Elsa decided.

". . . So what I came to ask was," Kristoff cleared his throat and drew himself up to his full height, "will you grant me your blessing to ask for Anna's hand in marriage?"

Elsa's mouth dropped open in a rather unqueenly manner. Kristoff grimaced.

"You know what, I said it all wrong. Let me just . . . go out the door and come back in and start over."

"No!" Elsa said, and Kristoff jumped. Elsa composed herself. "I mean, no, that won't be necessary, because my answer is yes."

"Yes?"

Elsa smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. It was the kind of grin she usually reserved for Anna -- but now it seemed Kristoff was to become family too. "Yes, of course!  I'm so happy for the both of you!"

Kristoff sighed with relief, a shaky smile coming over his face. "Thank you. If you are willing to hear me out, I have one more favor to ask of you."

"Name it."

"I have an idea in mind for a ring, but I'll need your help."

"My help?" Elsa said, shocked. "I don't understand."

"Anna is very special to me," Kristoff said, "and she’s special to you too -- that is, I don’t mean to _presume_ or anything, it’s just -- you know what, that came out all wrong.  Anna is special to both of us and since you know, you _did_ inadvertently introduce us --”

“I did what?” Elsa said.

Kristoff looked down at his boots.  “Well, ah -- I never would have met Anna if you hadn’t frozen everything.  Your majesty.”

Enough time had passed that Elsa could hear these words without flinching, though her gloved hands still twitched over the table.  Old habits died hard.

“I suppose you’re right,” Elsa said primly.  “What’s this idea you’ve got?”

Kristoff produced a square of folded parchment from a fold in his vest, striding forward to smooth it out on the table before her.  Elsa’s thin eyebrows disappeared into her hair.  “Kristoff, it’s beautiful,” she said.

“I have the stone,” he said, pinching it between two fingers.  “And -- I don’t want to take undue advantage of your talents, so I’ll pay you back any way I can.  Just say the word.”

Elsa scrutinized the sketch before her, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.  She barely heard what he was saying.  Taking a deep breath to center her power, she slipped off her gloves and traced her slender fingers through the air, ice and snow following in their wake, creating a silvery band almost too delicate to see, etched with snowflake filigree.  She gestured to him and he dropped the cerulean stone into the center setting.  Elsa surrounded it with a cluster of tiny clear stones in an off-balance pattern, the way snow drifts would pile up in a winter wind.  Elsa glanced up at Kristoff, and he held out his palm.  The ring dropped into his hand, cool to the touch.

“That’s amazing,” he said, still in awe of her powers.  “It’s perfect; Elsa, thank you.”

Elsa smiled, and Kristoff, who realized how rare her smiles were, took the two he had been given this day as the gifts they were.

“It’s my pleasure,” Elsa said.  “Take care of my sister.”  Her smile faltered somewhat.  Only a year and some months ago, she had said those same words to a different man, one whose intentions were not so true as Kristoff’s.  But the past was in the past, and she was learning to let it go.

* * *

The aurora borealis had started to die down, the shimmering curtains of light dissipating as they rippled through the sky until they were nothing more than multi-colored wisps.  Though Anna had lived in Arendelle her whole life, the northern lights still never failed to fascinate her.  Kristoff had joined her tonight on one of her favorite perches: a ledge behind a waterfall on the face of the fjord.  The waterfall was frozen solid this time of year, but the light filtered through it, casting a subtle glow of greens, blues and violets over them.

A rough stone path cut into the face of the cliff led right to the ledge, but in the dark it was particularly difficult to find unless one knew it was there.  They’d had the overlook all to themselves this evening, and Gerda had sent them off with tightly sealed mugs of hot creamy bergensk fiskesuppe and dry crusty bread.  Anna liked the way the steam curled up off the velvety surface of the fish soup, while Kristoff was always happy to have a hearty, warm meal after so many days going hungry as a child.  It didn’t hurt that Gerda was an outstanding cook.

“Well, I suppose it’s about time I get you back to the castle,” Kristoff said.  “Elsa will kill me if I keep you out too late.”

Anna sighed.  “Alright.”  He helped her down off the ledge and caught a glimpse of her face.

“Anna?  What’s wrong?”

“What? Nothing,” Anna said unconvincingly, trying to turn away, but Kristoff caught her wrist and turned her back towards him.

“It’s not nothing.  Whatever it is, it’s written all over your face.”

She looked up at him, the corners of her mouth downturned.  “Oh, I’m just being stupid!” she burst out, pulling her arms out of his grasp and gesturing wildly as she paced back and forth in front of him.  “I mean, we’ve talked about it _so many times_ and how many kids we’ll have and where we’ll live and what kind of food will be served at the reception -- soup, roast and ice cream -- and of course, Elsa will be my maid of honor and Sven will be your best man and if anyone cares that he’s a reindeer they won’t be invited and --”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Kristoff said, holding up his hands.  “Slow down.  What?”

Anna blinked at him.  “I know you want to marry me eventually,” she said softly.  “I just . . . I’ve been waiting for you to propose for a long time and now I’m not sure if you want to at all.”

Kristoff stared at her, his mouth open.  “Uh, well, about that . . .” he started, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand before jamming his hands in his coat pockets.

“Remember when I told you I was engaged to Hans, and you asked me all these _questions,_ which at the time I thought you were being ridiculous, but I know all those things about you --”

“Anna --”

“Like your last name?  Bjorgman, which, I’ll be honest, I’ve _definitely_ been doodling the ‘Mrs. Anna Bjorgman’ when I’ve been supposed to be taking notes for Elsa at council meetings, and before you ask, yes, I do sometimes put a little heart over the ‘j’ --”

“You didn’t --”

“--Your favorite food is _fruktsuppe_ , because it’s warm and spicy and fruity and it’s what your mother used to make on Christmas Eve and it’s one of the only memories you have of her before she died --”

“You remembered that?  I --”

“--And your best friend’s name is Sven, obviously, and some people would say you can’t have a reindeer as a best friend but I don’t judge because _anyone with eyes_ can see how much you two care about each other --”

“Well, yeah, but --”

“--And your eye color is brown, but just saying ‘brown’ doesn’t really do you justice, because you’ve got these gorgeous flecks of grey and gold in there and when you’ve got the sun in your face they almost glow and when you look at me your eyes light up like you’ve never seen anything so wonderful before -- and when you look at bacon.  Just kidding.”

“Anna, you’re --”

“--And I still stand by what I said that foot size doesn’t matter, but you do have _huge_ feet, like ‘don’t-even-have-to-wear-snowshoes-in-the-winter’ huge, and you wear a size _fifteen_ , so you always have to special order your shoes.”  Anna heaved a sigh, recovering from the avalanche of words.  Kristoff grabbed her by both shoulders.

“Anna, stop!  Hold on!”  When he was sure he had Anna’s full attention, he pulled back his hands -- and Anna noticed the small pouch he was holding.

“What -- ooohhh,” she said, her blue eyes going very round.

“I was going to wait a few more days, until we took that trip into the mountains this weekend,” Kristoff said.  “But I think it might be better if I do this now.”  Taking off his mittens, he opened the drawstring and shook the slender silvery band out onto his bare palm.

“Anna,” he said slowly.  “Your last name is Schleswig-Holstein-Glücksburg-Sonderburg. No, wait -- Sonderburg-Glücksburg.  Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg.”  He exhaled.  “It took me ages to memorize that.”

Anna giggled.  “Me too.  Bjorgman is definitely easier.”

Kristoff cracked a smile.  “Your favorite food is chocolate, of course, and your best friend’s name is Elsa.”  He raised an eyebrow.  “Don’t make me say _her_ last name.”

He put his free hand on Anna’s cheek, stroking the smooth curve of her jaw.  “Your eyes are blue, but ‘blue’ doesn’t do them justice,” he said.  “They’re blue like the sky in summer, like the water of Arendelle Harbor in autumn.  Blue like the sun filtering through the frozen waterfall in winter, or the crocuses in the royal gardens in spring.  Blue like this.”  He held up the ring, and the center stone caught the light like the way sunlight sparkled through water droplets.

Tears welled up in Anna’s eyes.  Her hands were clasped in a ball pressed up against her mouth.  Kristoff’s eyes widened.

“No!  Don’t cry, Anna -- am I doing it wrong?”

She gave a half-sob, half-laugh.  “No, no, it’s perfect.  You’re perfect -- what?”

“ _And,_ as it turns out, foot size actually does matter,” Kristoff said, holding up the ring between two large fingers, “because most of the time, a woman’s foot size will tell you what size ring she wears.  So . . . Princess Anna of Arendelle, my wonderful, crazy, feisty, bubbly, beautiful Anna -- will you marry me?”

Anna nodded vigorously, not trusting herself to speak.  She tore off her glove and with shaking hands, Kristoff slipped it onto her finger.

It was a perfect fit.  Just like Anna and Kristoff.


End file.
